Fakiru Week 2012 Plus Extras
by damn-me-4-luving-slash
Summary: All my written Fakiru Week submissions for 2012 in one easy to read place. Also as an added bonus- two extra shorts done for seperate pieces! Rated T for safety and not for anything naughty.
1. Red

Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. That is the property of the great Ikuko Itoh

A/N: So here are the written pieces I did for Fakiru week this year. Actually made it through the whole week and didn't give up! To all my Mou Ichido fans who are eagerly anticipating an update; I apologise, that will only be up in two weeks once I've gotten over the hurdle of most of my exams. The only reason these shorts are going up is that they are already written and quite honestly forgot to cross post them here. Hope everyone enjoys never the less.

On with the shorts!

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Day 1- Red

Good God it was everywhere!

What had happened; had someone broken in?

Fakir looked around the disaster area that was their kitchen in shock. 'If that's what I think it is then I need to find Ahiru, now.'

"Ahiru!" the green-haired man called out "Ahriu!"

Getting no reply, Fakir wandered deeper into their shared apartment, growing more worried at the continued silence. 'Don't panic fakir, it's not blood; it's not blood. No one has that much blood in their body'

The bathroom yielded nothing but a pile of clothing covered in more of the red substance.

It was in the bedroom that the writer found the object of his increasingly frantic search.

The curtains were drawn closed and the petite girl was lying curled up in the middle of the double bed. Her eyes were closed tight against the pain and small hands were massaging her abdomen.

"Ahiru," Fakir called softly so not to startle her. With her in this state it might just be the last thing he did.

Pained blue eyes opened and his girlfriend gave him a tired smile "Okaeri Fakir,"

Fakir sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a kiss in greeting "Is it bad?" he asked concerned

Ahiru nodded before giving a small groan at another spasm.

"I'll get the hot water bottle" he said as he stood, still keeping calm. Nothing would come from his normal abrasive nature except a screaming match, lots of tears and being banished to the couch. Just like last month.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he was once again confronted with the horror movie scene. Now that he wasn't as shocked, he noticed that the splatters were a bit too bright a red to be blood and that the kitchen smelt oddly sweet. Stepping closer, he ran a finger through the mess before sniffing.

Suppressing a smile, he put the kettle to boil before fishing the hot water bottle from underneath the sink.

A quick peak into the fridge confirmed his suspicions.

Ahiru had made Red Velvet.


	2. Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. That is the property of the great Ikuko Itoh

**Bold-**Fakir's essay topic

_Italics_-Fakir's Essay

Normal- Fakir's thoughts.

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Day 3- Dreams

**Write a 500 word essay focusing on what the heart longs for but the mind knows is unattainable. You will be marked on the depth of personal reflection shown within your writing.**

_Human beings have long coveted that which they cannot obtain. Whether it is a new outfit or another's life partner, the unattainable has always held certain appeal. I myself am no exception to this human condition._

Fakir tapped his quill against the edge of the desk as he tried to think of his next paragraph. Around him, the sounds of library reminded him that final exams were just around the corner and everyone had sought out a place of quiet in order to complete all the last minute assessments that the teachers had heaped upon them.

_For the longest time everything was simply a chore, something that had to be done with no passion or true effort on my part. That others saw these feeble attempts as being the best amongst others encouraged me to continue as I had been. The days were routine and comfortable; I saw no reason to change. I had no close friends save one, only acquaintances. There was no true desire on my part to interact, form bonds, and participate. Life was a chore after all; or so I thought until I was shown differently._

Fakir gave a small smile as he remembered the first time he met the girl who managed to get any sort of reaction from him besides cool indifference. Granted it was anger, anger borne of fear, and he had made her cry but still it was more than what he had previously expressed.

_The initial shock of meeting someone so full of passion and determination, someone who was selfless and kind to everyone she met; someone so completely different to I, was great. Truly, it can only be expected when two such opposing personalities meet for the first time. Regardless, that sparked something within my cold, colourless existence; warmth that I had thought long buried._

_From that point, I found that I subconsciously yearned to be close to this source of ignition; to the paintbrush capable of colouring my soul and make it vibrant once again. However, she was drawn to another and I could do nothing but admire from afar. That I was still treated with kindness, despite constant passion-filled clashes, made the longing grow until it became an all-encompassing need. I knew however that it would never be and fought to maintain control; I couldn't let that colour be so vibrant, it had to be muted for her sake and mine._

That had been the hardest thing, the writer thought as he stretched in his chair. To work so closely, so intimately with her and know that her heart belonged to another; he had never coveted something so desperately until he'd met her. He wanted to be the one for whom she'd give such gentle smiles, for whom her face would light up only to be quickly stained with a blush. He wanted to be the one she loved and would go to the ends of the earth for to make happy. He'd never envied Mytho so much until then.

_Despite the best of efforts; the longings of the heart still manifest themselves through other mediums. Nights soon become torturous as glimpses of what might be, what one wants to be, are shown continuously. Dreaming becomes one's worst enemy as the heart's desires and the mind's realisation constantly engage in a battle between hope and hopelessness. No reprieve can be found and soon the soul grows weary not knowing whether to hold onto the hope that someday the longing shall be fulfilled or whether to accept the unattainability of that which it yearns for the most. Should the dream be kept alive or should it be allowed to scattered into the winds of the North?_

Fakir sighed as he thought of his endless struggles to write her back. Even though they had both promised to go back to being their true selves neither had been happy with the results. Her heart ached to be human once more while his screamed to make her his at last. They'd both gone through their periods of depression but he liked to think that they'd come out stronger people because of it.

A crash towards the entrance of the library had him corking his ink well and blowing on his parchment to dry the last lines of his essay. Even though she had grown into her body and lost most of the gawkiness that came with being a teenager, Ahiru was still unbelievably clumsy. Sometimes, Fakir struggled to believe that she had ever been the graceful Princess Tutu.

"Ready to go, moron?" he asked as he held his hand out for her school bag, leaving her with the changing bag; tonight she was washing her class attire.

"Don't call me that," the red-haired girl griped as she fell into step with him as they left the building "and yeah, we're done for today. With final examinations so soon, sensei is trying to get as much practise out of us. He said that you need to come in over the weekend to make up for today."

Fakir nodded in acknowledgement and they fell into a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her taking in their surroundings; eyes still wide with wonder despite having been human for nearly a year. Seeing the pleasure on her face and knowing that it was he who had given that to her made his heart skip a beat every time. The green-haired boy thought back to his conclusion.

_Many a man has wasted away dreaming and longing for something that they'd never have. Many have been crushed holding onto a false hope or letting go of something that they'd never obtain again. That unfortunately is the folly of life. I believe however that should the cause be a noble one, the heart could lead faithfully while within the taming constructs of possible failure. For then and only then can one truly satisfy the dreams of one's soul and possibilities of one's mind._

Bright laughter interrupted his thoughts and Fakir smiled as Ahiru chased the small sparrows which flitted past. One day, he'd gather the courage to take their relationship to the next level but for now he was content to be by her side.

_Yes, if the cause is a noble one, some dreams are worth holding onto._


	3. Light

Disclaimer: I do not own princess tutu, that is the property of Ikuko Itoh

Author's Notes: Modern Day AU. The tour Ahiru and Fakir are taking is the 9 day Hurtigruten Northern Lights Cruise. Sound like it could be lots of fun to go on.

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Day 5: Light

"Fakir," an insistent voice said in his ear "Fakir, wake up"

The green-haired man grumbled before turning over, pulling the blankets to cover his head. Ahiru pouted a bit before shaking his shoulder once again.

"Not now Ahiru; I'm tired. Haven't you had enough for one day?" came the sleep-roughened voice of her new husband. The red-head giggled at his words, knowing that they really hadn't had much of a chance for rest on their honeymoon, seeing as they were active both night and day.

"Come on Fakir, we're going to miss it if you don't get up."

"Miss what?" came the petulant reply

"It's a surprise now get up. It'll be worth it, I promise." She gave him one last shove before putting another jersey on, zipping into her heavy snow jacket afterwards.

Fakir grumbled as he rolled out of bed, knowing that he would be getting no more sleep until he indulged Ahiru in whatever crazy activity she wanted to partake. There had been no shortage of them during the four days they'd spent on honeymoon. Reindeer and husky sledding in below freezing temperatures, ice hotels, snowmobile safaris and even killer whale watching tomorrow; there hadn't been a chance for them to just be.

Dressing warmly, he stepped into his boots and followed his wife's eager form out of their cosy hotel room.

"So where exactly are you dragging me to, in the freezing cold, at midnight?" Fakir asked as they stepped out into the brisk night air. Underneath their feet, the snow crunched as the red-haired woman led them out into the small forest behind the building.

"A lady this afternoon told me about a place in the forest where we would have an unobstructed view and the clerk at the reception desk said the skies will finally be clear tonight so this is our last chance before we move on and apparently it truly is a spectacular thing to see," Ahiru explained quickly as they trudged on.

Fakir sighed, his question having brought him little enlightenment. "Our last chance for what? We still have five more days of holiday left."

Ahiru stopped and led him up a slight rise which opened into a clearing; the sky un-obscured by tall trees. Above them, waves of colour flowed in a synchronised dance, greens and reds intertwined.

"Our last chance to see that," Ahiru whispered as she cuddled into Fakir's side as she too marvelled at the aurorae. "We were supposed to have seen them all the other nights as well but there was heavy cloud cover."

Drawing her in closer, Fakir watched the ribbon of colour in awe. He'd heard of the Northern Lights of course but never had he thought he'd be able to see them personally in his lifetime. They truly were beautiful; just like the one who'd brought him here to witness the phenomenon.

Turning the petite woman in his arms, Fakir placed a tender kiss upon her chilled lips. "Thank you for bringing me here," he said as he gently brushed away her bangs so that he could see those clear blue orbs unobstructed.

Ahiru placed her head on his chest, pushing herself closer to him "it was my pleasure." She replied with a soft smile.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Fakir pulled her in for another kiss, this one deeper and longer than the last, before they turned back to enjoy the Lofoten aurora borealis.


	4. Forever

**Disclaimer:**** Getting tired of these now. Don't own Princess Tutu**

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Day 7: Forever

"Well it certainly will be a best seller," the editor said as she handed him back the beautifully covered book "you'll be missed in the writing community Ray; isn't there anyway we can convince you to remain?"

A hearty laugh, matured over decades, was her answer and wrinkled, ink stained hands fiddled with the gold detailing of the necklace held reverently in his hands "I'm old, Natalie; now the only stories that I'll weave are those that I'll tell my grandchildren."

Natalie sighed before straightening "And the cover; so simple yet captivating. The design…"

"Won't be used," Raynard said shortly while placing both book and necklace beside his inherited writing utensils; the glass wings of the pendant catching the afternoon sunlight "I want this one to be one of a kind."

"Is that why you hand wrote it instead of typing?" the amused editor asked wryly "and why I have photocopies as your manuscript submission?"

Another laugh and the old writer ushered his pouting guest out of the study, pausing only to flatten the cowlick at the top of his head. Natalie continued into the living room, still complaining, but the author paused at the threshold, green eyes softening as he gazed at the finished novel.

"Thanks Grandpa," he whispered before closing the door.

Inside, the book let off a soft, golden glow which wrapped itself around the necklace and inkpot before fading away.

Seeing the light from under the door, Raynard smiled before leaving to prepare tea for his visitor.

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A/N: Just to clarify Raynard is not their grandchild; he's their great-grandchild. He just calls them grandma and grandpa. Onto the next chapter!


	5. Stolen Kisses

**Disclaimer:****Me no own**

A/N: This wasn't a fakiru week submission but is the short that goes with my one art piece by the same name on deviant.

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Stolen Kisses

"Fakir, come on; why can't I go with you?"

"I'll be back just now, plus you have class" Fakir replied gesturing to her leotard clad body

"So do you," Ahiru whined "who's going to partner me?"

"Fermio"

The duck-like girl pouted fiercely, turning away from her tall boyfriend. Fakir shook his head in exasperation at her childish anger.

"Ahiru,"

The petite ballerina didn't turn around, intent on ignoring Fakir until he allowed her to accompany him. Fakir sighed before reaching round to grasp a delicate wrist and effortlessly spun Ahiru to face him. She squeaked in surprise, just managing to supress the reflexive 'quack.'

"I promise I won't be long. The spring show is in a few weeks and last week you were off with an injury. You need to go to class." Checking to make sure they were alone, the green-haired author caught Ahiru's lips in a firm yet mind-blowing kiss. He kept it short, knowing that soon they'd both be running late.

Gazing into surprised sky-blue eyes, Fakir brushed away Ahiru's fiery red bangs and dropped a soft kiss to her forehead "go to class moron," he said affectionately "you'll see me there in no time at all"

"Okay," Ahiru conceded and with a kiss to the cheek in forgiveness, she ran back into the ballet building, a blush staining her cheeks.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Fakir continued his hurried trip to the jewelers.


	6. Theirs Is A Quiet Intimacy

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Princess Tutu**

A/N: Another that wasn't part of Fakiru week but accompanies one of my art pieces

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Theirs is a quiet intimacy

Everybody expected their relationship to be full of fire and passion; she was vibrant, loud and energetic while he was taciturn, un-intruding and stern. Both commanded attention and left an impression. Their personalities were complete opposites, matter to anti-matter; one could only assume that the merging of the two would be like their arguments, a clashing, discorded symphony of feelings.

And yet, Autor thought as he lowered his camera, theirs was a quiet intimacy, natural and unassuming. She brought out the colour in Fakir's personality and writings with soft smiles and gentle touches while he calmed the storm of her endless energy and enthusiasm with strong and unyielding leads. Together, they complemented the best in the other and supported the worst. Uncertainty and strife truly has brought them to a point where being together is all that matters.

'After the chaos of returning Kinkan Town to its former glory,' the bespectacled teen thought as he left them under the shade of the large oak tree 'we could all use a bit of peace and quiet.'


End file.
